Of Monsters and Madmen
by Defiant Nefelibata
Summary: To those that know her Penelope Garcia is simply the flamboyant, and very unique, tech analyst for the homicide unit at the BAU. However to a select few she is also known as one of the best informants on monster lore and tracker of demon activity there is. When a case involving the supernatural threatens her unknowing team, will she still be able to keep these two lives separate?
1. Pilot

**I shouldn't be writing this. No seriously I shouldn't be writing this. I already have way to many stories on the go. Fragging plot bunnies. Ok so this will be a crossover of Criminal Minds and Supernatural. Two of my favorite TV shows combined as one, which is likely the reason the bunnies are going crazy. Like dingo ate my baby crazy, it's a mad house in my head. It's likely that updates will be a while in coming, or this will stay a lonely one shot for a long time. I have just too many fics and I'm a slow typer. But if the bunnies get too insistent than another chapter could come sooner than expected. It depends, my muse is a fickle thing. As always READ, REVIEW AND ENJOY.**

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Disclaimer: I own nothing! Nothing I say! Other people own the sandbox, I'm just playing in it and I will try to return the characters in the same condition I borrowed them in. However I make no promises about emotional damage.

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The sound of humming and the rich smell of a double espresso pumpkin spice coffee with extra foam filled the air as Penelope Garcia, tech goddess, made her way into her 'inner sanctum'. It was a bit of a slow day at the BAU but considering the nature of their jobs that was a good thing. It also made for a nice break, even if it did mean having to catch up on a metric ton of boring old paperwork.

"Hello my lovelies," the blonde woman sing-songed to herself and her computer monitors as she entered her office.

With a swirl of colorful clothes and scarves Penelope plopped herself into her chair and began her work day. Some people in the BAU were often under the impression that when the team wasn't on a case Garcia was paid to do nothing. Or worse, be their personal call-in techie if they were having computer problems. While she didn't mind being of service for her friends if they were having tech problems she did mind people treating her like a computer savvy idiot paid to be at their beck and call.

Which of course was sheer lunacy in their part. There was a reason after all why Penelope had been plucked from the hacker underworld (and possible jail time) and tossed into the BAU. She generally wasn't kidding when she called herself the 'Office of Unmitigated Superiority', at least where it came to tech and hacking. Garcia was amongst the best, a fact she prided herself on. And even before the BAU she had always done her best to use her hacking super powers only for good. Unfortunately sometimes doing what was good was bad in the black and white eyes of the law but she did her best to follow her moral compass.

So Penelope's morning was busy with sweeping databases, doing paperwork and every now and then looking for a new case. JJ wasn't the only one that screened new cases or looked for unsub patterns after all. Garcia occasionally did her part to track down the odd case or two for her team. After all the highly available anonymity of the internet was often the perfect places for baddies to hide, at least until she found them like a flaming torch. Usually though when not on a case or chasing an unsub her online sleuthing was directed in a more... unofficial direction. Nothing illegal, not with the access she had with her handy dandy official job, but still if she was caught there would be consequences. If anyone ever discovered her so-encrypted-they-can't-be-found-unless-you-know-they're-there files, she'd be committed faster than she could say 'oops'. However Garcia was always careful to cover her tracks. Getting caught by the FBI all those years ago taught her a lot on how to remain below the cyber radar of everyone.

So the day passed in mostly peace and quiet, the only interruptions coming from the odd visit from a member of her team. Then, just a little after lunch time, Penelope's phone rang cheerfully. Forgetting that her team was in the bullpen and not out in the field she hit the answering button with her fluffy pen.

"You have reached the office of the sexy and all knowing tech goddess Penelope Garcia. How may I serve you today?"

"Hey Penny," a familiar voice chuckled into her ear through her bluetooth.

Garcia's hands froze over her keyboard and her eyes lit up with joy.

"Sammy! Well if it isn't my second favorite genius, finally come to call." Penelope all but squealed and bounced a little in her chair in excitement and joy at hearing his voice.

"Aww, Pen you know I hate that nickname and since when am I only your second favorite genius? When did I get replaced?" He questioned teasingly, sounding mildly offended.

The bubbly blond's eyes narrowed as she got up and shut the door of her office. Normally she had an 'open doors' visitation policy but these kinds of conversations were best not overheard. "Since you and that brother of yours went two months without calling! Especially after I sent the pair of you after that murderous phantom in Washington, but do I get so much as a text saying 'Hey we're still alive.' No. I. Don't. So you've been demoted to secondary genius." Garcia said with a pout on her face and in her voice.

Sam stuttered what might have been the beginnings of an apology on the other side of the phone but was interrupted.

"Is that Penelope?" Another familiar voice said in the background, and for several seconds only the sound of a scuffle being fought could be heard.

"Well hello there sugar," Dean's voice purred over the phone once he had wrestled the device from his brother. "It's been far too long since I've heard your lovely voice. How's our goddess of goodness been keeping? Those feds of yours taking care of you?"

"Oh you know it my darling delectable demon hunter," Penelope purred teasingly right back. The relationship between her and the oldest Winchester was much like the one between her and Morgan. Light and flirty but never too serious, the only difference was that she had known Dean and his brother longer. "You know me, still fighting the good fight over here. Hunting down the human evil of the world, kicking bad guy butt and taking names on the living side of things."

"That's my girl," Dean chuckled with no small hint of pride in his voice.

"You two are disgusting, honestly. I'm right here for Cristo's sake so do you think you could keep the flirtations to a minimum?" Sam groused and grumbled in the background.

"Shut up Sam, you should be taking notes. Maybe you'd get a date sometime," Dean chuckled. "I'm going to put you on speaker Penny."

"Alrighty boys enough chit chat. I know you two didn't just call me to make small talk so what can I do for you?" Garcia declared once she heard the telltale click of a speaker phone.

"What? We can't call just to hear your sweet voice?" The eldest brother asked in his usual smooth charming way.

"Oh don't give me false hopes Dean my dear. I know you two only want me for my fantastic personality, brains, hacker abilities- ok let's just say you want all of me and leave it at that." The blonde said in good humor.

"Not to mention your amazing b-" but whatever Dean was going to say was cut off with a thump and a grunt. Penelope bit her lip to keep from laughing, having no doubt that Sam had just purposely cut his brother off.

"Anyway," Sam said with slight irritation toward his brother. "We're mostly calling because the hunting's getting slow and we were hoping you might have something for us."

"Sure thing Sammy," Penelope said brightly as her hands flew into action and brought up the extra encrypted and totally secret search engine and files she had on hand. "Which state are you guys in now?"

"Nevada for the moment. We've just finished wiping out a nest of Wolpertinger's, they were nasty little bastards to. Not to mention I had to sacrifice my best whiskey to lure them in." Dean complained with a gruff whine, which didn't sound childish at all.

"Wollip-ta-who now?" Garcia questioned with a furrowed brow.

"They're like a Jackalope, you know a rabbit with the antlers of an antelope? Except these guys also have wings, fangs, a hankering for human flesh and a tendency to attack in swarms." Sam said in his usual matter-of-fact tone when he was informing someone of information on something supernatural. It really reminded Garcia of whenever Ried would go off on a tangent while on a case.

"Wonderful," Penelope drawled sarcastically but continued to type. "Alright so I've got a rash of pet mutilations in Wisconsin which I thought for a little while might be a Hodag. That's a bit of a drive though and I think it's just a hoax being played by some bored local kids."

"That would make more sense. Hodags went extinct back in the 1880's, not to mention that they only eat white bulldogs for some reason." Sam said reasonably which only made Garcia roll her eyes.

"Well if that doesn't float your boat there are possible reports of what might be a Kelpie in Oklahoma, and I've got patterns suggesting a fire demon in New Mexico."

"Fire demon?" Dean questioned, a small note of interest in his tone.

"Ah, I was hoping that one would perk your interest. Ok so for the past fifty years or so this black eyed sucker has been burning down buildings in three year cycles. Nobody's noticed until now because the dastardly devil has been jumping all around the country doing it's evil thing. I think he even went over into Canada for a bit before making his way back south."

"How do you know he's in New Mexico?" Sam questioned.

"Tut tut, hold your applause for one minute please. I know he's there because this particular demon burns down three very specific kind of things every three years in June, which is this month. Always first to go is a place of new business, last time it was a brand spanking new video rental store. Local authorities said it was electrical issues but thats a load of pocky as we all know. Next to burn is always a historical site of some kind."

"What kind of historical sites?" Sam asked.

Garcia gave an unseen shrug, "Any kind, doesn't seem to matter what. Everything from museums to houses even things that realistically shouldn't burn. A few years back this baddie somehow burned a stone statue of a local hero in Vermont into rubble. Confused the heck out of the local force. And last but not least to go is the third building, which is always a family home. This is also where the demon ensures that there is always a body count and no survivors. Last time he killed a family of five."

Penelope paused to let that bit of information settle in and gazed sadly at the many photos of the burned out shells of family homes. This was truly the only part of the job that she honestly hated. The photos of the innocent and those same faces with empty eyes, or worse.

Fortunately her thoughts were interrupted by a curious Sam, "So you know he's there because a new business has burned down without explanation."

With a shake of her head Garcia perked back up. "Yup. I figured since three years have passed since the last triage of fires I set my all seeing sights on any suspicious fires this month with no obvious cause in places of new business. Low and behold I got a hit just yesterday in a little place called Carrizozo where a brand new hotel just went up in flames with no apparent cause that firefighters can find. Luckily though no one was killed since the place was going to open for the first time next week. However what's strange is the fact that the demon has already been to this town. Three fires in all the right, or wrong if you will, places about fifty years ago."

"Has he ever revisited any of the other towns he's been to before?" Dean asked, and Penelope could all but hear him packing his guns, salt and holy water.

"Nope," Garcia said with a pop. "Not that I can find, which we all know basically means that no he hasn't. Ever."

"Good enough for me! Come on Sam, pack your crap. We got a smoking hot case and a few hundred miles to drive so move that scrawny ass. If we can get the scum quick maybe we can also get that Kelpie. Penelope, you sugar are a godsend. Promise you'll stay sexy for me."

"Only if you'll keep that pretty face of yours out of harms way. Can't go putting your money maker out of commission. That goes for you too Sammy. You guys have a few days until he strikes a landmark and then a home so I better let you hop to it. Go get 'em boys, but stay safe ok? And for crying out loud call me when it's over! I like to know that your two are alive believe it or not," Garcia said in her sternest no-nonsense voice.

"Yes ma'am."

"Sure thing Penelope."

"Then I will send you everything I found to your computer. Have fun playing with fire, but don't get burned."

With that and a flick of her pen the line disconnected, leaving Garcia smiling like a goof in front of her monitors. It was good to hear from the Winchester boys, especially since she had been worrying about them for weeks now. She had come close to looking up their latest credit scam and looking for the telltale fake names in her data bases but held back, unwilling to risk calling unwanted and potentially dangerous attention to her boys. It was already hard enough keeping them from making their way back onto the FBI's most wanted list, even with her skills since they were supposed to be dead. However now they had finally called, letting her know they were alive and well, she being the dutiful informant that she was sent them after a new case.

"They better call or so help me l'll send them after a spirit in a haunted garbage dump next time," Garcia muttered to herself.

"Knock knock baby girl."

With the swift tap of a key Penelope banished her supernatural search engine and files back to whence they came. In that same moment the door swung wide, letting Derek enter with his pearly white smile and a raised eyebrow.

"What's up Penelope? Why's the door closed? You're not in here cheating on me with those computers of your are you?" The dark man teased playfully.

"Oh honey cheating is such an ugly word. I prefer the term window shopping, I can look but I just can't touch." Garcia taunted lightly back deftly avoiding answering the other questions.

"Ouch, careful now I don't think my ego could handle the blow if you left me now sweetness." Derek said with a wink, rolling with the punches.

"Fear not my chocolate god, you are still the only dark knight of my heart... for the moment at least," she cackled mischievously.

Derek rolled his eyes before replying, "Well this knight has come to save you from your dark and lonely tower. Want to take a break and come and get some coffee?"

"Sure thing, just let me wrap up here."

With a nod Derek left Garcia's lair, and with a flick of her bangled wrist and a tap of the keys the blonde locked and sent her monitors to sleep. Tracking down all the evil in the world both supernatural and otherwise could wait for a few minutes. After all the siren call of caffeine was singing her song.

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**My first chapters are almost always short and sweet. It's the hook, ya know? The piece made to get you interested and want to reach for the next chapter button. Let me know what you think below and maybe if we're lucky my bunnies will use them for fuel to make another chapter. Stay awesome my lovelies! **


	2. Two phone calls and a nightmare

**Oh wow, look! Could it be? It is! It's a second chapter! These are more rare than a shiny legendary pokemon these days. I don't know how this happened, it just sort of popped up like a mole that you're slightly worried might be skin cancer. No worries, that doesn't mean this fic will give anyone cancer. If you believe that then whatever you do don't watch the same documentary about chemicals my grade ten socials studies teacher made my class watch. It's made me utterly convinced I'm going to die every time I shampoo my hair, though that hasn't stopped me from using hair products yet. In anycase this chapter is shorter than I'd like but please don't let that stop you from doing the following; READ, REVIEW AND, ENJOY!**

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Disclaimer; I absolutely no money from any of this though it would be nice to. I also own nothing but that's only until I manage to kidnap the actors. Just kidding, because I'm one of those people who just likes to admire from afar and I think I'd literally die of a heart attack on the spot if I actually met any of them in real life. I'm that person that's like, 'No, no, I don't want to talk to you or touch you or even get your signature. I just want to gasp at you from across the street and then squeal about it to my friends like a total nerdy fangirl. That's all.' So ya I own nothing and have very little money so don't sue me, it's not worth the effort.

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Quote: I am able to play monsters well. I understand monsters. I understand madmen.

-Anthony Hopkins

A few weeks later Penelope found herself exhausted, having run unusual hours for days on end while she and the BAU team tracked down yet another unsub. Garcia hated the smart, sophisticated, psycho killers the most. Especially the tech savvy ones that required her to go out into the field. Not to mention that digging into their pasts often left her feeling gritty and dirty and more often than not, very sad. The only two bright spots in the past week was the Winchester brothers calling her to let her know that they had survived their encounter with the fire demon, and that in the end she and her team had arrested the unsub and also managed to save one of his would be victims. Once the plane landed in Quantico Hotch told the whole team to take the next day off since it was very late and they were all exhausted. Garcia decided to follow Hotch's sage advice and immediately went home to get some sleep.

The tech analyst shuffled into her colorful apartment and barely managed to skim over her bedtime rituals before crashing hard into her bed. She barely had time to wonder if this was anywhere near as tired as the rest of her team felt before slipping into blissful dreamland. However her dreams didn't stay very pleasant for long. Nightmares were often a part of the job. With everything that they did and saw on an almost daily basis it was no surprise that things found a way to slip in through the cracks while their defences were down. Then there was the fact that Garcia knew a little more than her team about what else could be going bump in the night, other than an unsub, and it made for dreams that bordered on insanity.

But this particular dream was familiar, if only because it was one that Penelope had often imagined while awake and reocurred every now and again. The problem with this dream was that she never knew she was dreaming. It started out simply enough she was sitting in the back seat of the old family car, her parents in the front, going on a drive. They all laughed and sang along to her father's old rock music, doing ridiculous pretend drum solos and guitar riffs. Then suddenly the dream would shift; the bright day fading to night, her parents anxious, looking out the windows almost frantically.

Her father looked over at his wife, "Please Betty stay calm. I'm sure we'll find Penelope soon, or she'll show up back at home-", but her mother interrupted.

"But what if she doesn't Ryan?" Betty whispered in distress. "I shouldn't have argued like that with her about her grades, and now she's missing when she's usually so good about her curfew. What if something's happened?"

Ryan reached over and rubbed his wife's shoulder, offering comfort. "Hey now, we both agreed that we should talk to her about her efforts in school. Penelope will come home after she's had time to calm down and cooled off. Though I have to wonder where she got such a temper," he teased slightly in a vain attempt to lighten the mood.

As always when she had this dream, Penelope found that she couldn't move or talk. Trapped with a deep sense of foreboding that something horrible was about to happen, mentally screaming with no one able to hear her. It didn't take long for her feeling to come true, because at that moment the temperature in the vehicle dropped several degrees. A light cool fog misted the windows as the car radio turned suddenly from rock music to static. Her father tapped at the stereo, twisting the dials to no avail. Scared, with some part of her recognising what was happening, Penelope begged in her head her father to turn the car around. But of course they couldn't hear her and then it was too late. Seemingly out of nowhere headlights appeared in front of them, the driver coming toward them not even trying to stay in the opposite lane but charging directly at them.

Ryan cursed under his breath and gripped the steering wheel tighter, "What the hell is this idiot doing? Damn teenagers going to kill themselves playing highway chicken."

With little other choice and a sharp turn of the wheel her father quickly jerked the car over the yellow line and into the opposite lane. His many years of driving experience coming into play and allowing him to dodge the other vehicle, a tan car which looked like an older model chevy. Ryan relaxed his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel as he got back into his own lane however the tan chevy wasn't gone. For one moment the taillights of the other vehicle could be seen in the rearview before they vanished, only to suddenly be replaced by headlights once again as the tan chevy roared up behind them. The growling engine sounding angry and vicious.

"Ryan? What's happening?" Betty asked, a small spark of fear creeping into her voice.

Penelope's father didn't have the chance to answer before the back of the vehicle was rammed from behind. Her mother screamed and her father swore, doing his best to stay in control. Panic and fear filled Penelope's still sleeping mind she helplessly and soundlessly cried out, trying to warn them. The car behind them slammed into the bumper again and began increasing it's speed, pushing them forward faster and faster until the scenery outside the windows began to blur.

"Ryan! Do something!" Betty begged, but there was nothing he could do. Not against something he had never even suspected to exist.

All too quickly up ahead the road took a sharp turn, a flimsy wooden railing being the only thing barrier between the road and a sharp drop into a small ravine. Ryan did his best, fighting the wheel and breaks against speed the phantom car behind them had forced them to. It wasn't enough. The railing shattered into splinters as their car crashed through, and there was only a split second of airborne weightlessness before the ground rose up to meet them and Penelope jerked awake with a scream. For several seconds it was all Penelope could do, panting to try to catch her breath as she trembled and remind herself that it was just a dream. One thing was clear, despite how tired she was she wasn't getting back to sleep tonight. At least she had the day off to relax and cat nap if she felt like it.

"Stupid subconscious imagination. What does my brain have against getting a good night sleep, uh?" Penelope sighed to herself as she looked at her clock and unwillingly peeled herself from her comfortable bed to make some tea that would hopefully calm her nerves.

It had been awhile since the last time the usually bubbly tech analyst had that dream. Which was likely why she so shaken as she curled up with a fresh cuppa in her hands, thinking back. Very few people knew the truth about her mother's and father's death. While any officials, reports and cops would tell any that asked that it was a simple car accident caused by a drunk driver that had never been caught Penelope knew the truth. Her parents killer was a ghost. A phantom car controlled by the spirit of a man that had committed suicide after his wife cheated on him, by driving off the road and into the same ravine her parents had been found in. Of course Penelope hadn't known that, not until the Winchesters had come into town asking strange questions.

She of course had only been eighteen at the time and all she knew was that her parents were gone, and that it was all her fault. Dean and Sam, though strange with an assortment of odd habits, were a comfort in the few weeks they had lived in her home town while their father hunted the phantom. Dean was older than her by three years and Sammy was younger by one year, though he was so mature for his age he often seemed older than Dean. She eventually found out about the supernatural when their father John needed her help to bait the ghost. She had of course been more than a little sceptical but even after only knowing Sam and Dean for a short time she knew they weren't playing a cruel joke. So even though she was doubtful she had helped.

As it turned out the ghost wasn't just trying to crash any vehicle on a specific anniversary or even because it liked killing. This ghost was killing for a sense of revenge and crashing any passing cars with women that looked like his old wife. Hence why John needed her help since Penelope took after her mother in looks. After it all was said and done Garcia was more than a believer, she wanted to help. However she wasn't exactly sure how and the Winchesters left quite quickly after the hunt was over. That of course didn't stop Penelope and Sam from chatting on the phone whenever the youngest hunter could get away to call. Dean eventually caught on to why Sammy would occasionally disappear and instead of stopping the call joined them in their chats. He would even occasionally call on his own just to ask how she was doing or let her know if they wouldn't be able to call for awhile.

Penelope often thought that perhaps they were trying to get a sense of normalcy through her. Just by hearing of her life as she finished high school, began attending Caltech while also teaching herself computer coding. This of course made her feel intense secondhand guilt when Sammy left John and Dean to go to Stanford. Some small part of herself feeling irrationally responsible for unknowingly encouraging Sam to fight with his father and leave his family. Though another part of her was insanely proud of him for going after what he wanted for himself and getting into such a good school with a scholarship and everything. It was also nice that she could see Sam more often since their schools were only a six hour drive away. They would occasionally see each other over the weekend if their studies allowed it.

However at her new school Penelope hadn't exactly fallen in with a good crowd. In her desire to help the world she became immersed in the idea that she could use her hacker abilities to help the world. It started small, occasionally helping the Winchesters find information or get out of a tight spot through hacking a database. Then she met Shane Wyeth and her hobby evolved into hacking companies and other businesses that she thought may be involved with criminals. By the time she dropped out of Caltech the vigilante hacker 'The Black Queen' was born. Of course both young Winchesters noticed when she got onto one of the FBI's lists, though they had been concerned long before then. Dean even taking some time from hunting to come see her and try to talk some sense into her, succeeding in only making her more stubborn.

Then the world went completely insane. Jess, the lovely young lady that Sam had been getting serious with, died and no matter how she tried she could find any of the Winchesters. It was like they had all vanished from the face of the earth! Of course while searching and hacking looking for them Penelope had strayed into some very secret areas that she really shouldn't have gone. The FBI arrested her and she had been looking at some very serious jail time until they decided that her talents were wasted on prison and offered her a chance at redemption. Naturally since Garcia wasn't looking at spending the rest of her hopefully long life as jailbait she took it. And the rest they say is history! Of course it had taken ages for her to find the Winchesters again, and was only able to do so through some very careful hacking. Then of course she contacted them to find out that the world was ending and the pair of them had somehow managed to start the bloody apocalypse.

Penelope was convinced that Winchesters in general were more trouble than they were worth, but she loved them far too much to leave them to their own devices. So she did what she did best, she tracked and hacked and did her best to help Bobby and his group of hunters protect the Seals. Of course it wasn't nearly enough against both the armies of heaven and hell but they had tried. Now that the devil was quite literally walking the earth things were rather crazy all around, both in the normal world and the supernatural. It was all Penelope could do to keep up with her day job and track supernatural activity by night. Though she wasn't an active hunter by any means and didn't have any experience in ganking monsters, that didn't stop her from doing her best to give her boys the best info she could get them. Even if it meant going behind her team's back, as much as it pained her to do so.

Finally after a little while of reminiscing Penelope was able to nod off on her sofa. However she was only able to sleep for a few hours before her phone rang. Garcia moaned as she blindly reached over and answered it without opening her eyes. Since Hotch had given the team a generous day off she assumed it was one of her elder brothers or something.

"Who dares disturb my slumber?" The blond growled threateningly, though it came out as more of a sleepy squeak.

It wasn't her one of her brothers on the other side of the phone, "Garcia I'm sorry for calling so early, and I know I promised the team a day off but I need you all to come in. I hope I'm not waking you."

Penelope sat up as she registered her boss' voice. "N-no, it's fine. Crime never sleeps and I was awake anyway," she lied unconvincingly as she rubbed eye gunk from her vision. "What can I do for you bossman?"

Hotch gave a barely perceptible sigh over the phone, which raised several of Garcia's red flags. Penelope was not by any means a profiler but he knew her team. Hotch wasn't the most emotionally expressive man, so something big must have happened for Hotch to be showing even the slightest sign that he was feeling the strain.

"I need you to come in and prepare a quick presentation for the team. This case is a bad one, and time sensitive. We need to be on this quickly before any press gets ahold of it and this gets worse than we can handle."

Garcia glanced at her clock, "I can be there in fifteen boss, just have the file on my desk when I get there." Sure she'd have to sacrifice her shower and usual primping time but that was fine. Penelope knew that she could make rags look good, even on just four hours of sleep.

"And Garcia? You should bring a go-bag, I want you to come with us on this case. This is looking like a possible unsub pack and it's always possible they may have met over the internet."

"You got it chief, be there in a flash," Penelope quickly hung up and all but leapt into action.

Within five minutes she was dressed and had her always ready just-in-case go-bag in one arm and her purse in the other. Using a few clever shortcuts she was able to pull up to the BAU with minutes to spare. Wasting no time the blond strutted quickly but elegantly to her lair, spotting the promised file on her desk. The team was likely right behind her so without further adieu she woke her computers and flipped open the paperwork before her to preview their latest case. She had hoped that it wasn't anything too horrible, but no it was worse than she could imagine.

The case was in San Francisco, and while death wasn't exactly out of place in a city so big these ones stood out. Three people; one stripper, a businessman, and a soccer mom from the suburbs. All dead in increasingly strange ways at almost the exact same time but found in different parts of the city. What had the local cops bamboozled was how they were killed. The stripper appeared to be a victim of suicide, found in a scummy paid-by-the-hour motel with slashed wrists and a knife in her hand. The businessman was found all but ripped apart in a park on his walk home from work. The soccer mom was the worst, found still in her date night dress with her throat torn out in what had to be the dirtiest ally of the city. However none of this was what steadily increased Penelope's growing horror as she looked at the provided photos of the crime scenes.

The stripper had been in a room locked from the inside with black goo seeping from her ears. What was left of the businessman had animal-like teeth marks and a missing heart. The mother was seemingly bled completely empty of all her blood. Garcia's mouth went dry as she looked at the symbol that connected all three, carved into each of their foreheads and allowing police to tie each of their deaths together. It was a powerful magical symbol for sacrifice though she had no clue how it would somehow manage to get a ghost, a werewolf and a vampire to work together. Penelope gripped her desk in a whiteknuckled grasp as she thought of how very over their heads her team was getting. None of them had any clue about these creatures. They thought that they were simply going after just another group of human psychos. She couldn't protect them from this, Hotch had already taken the case. Couldn't even warn them since anything she could say would make her look completely insane in their eyes. There had to be something, anything she could do.

Penelope wrung her hands in distress for several seconds as she considered her options. There was one thing that she could do, but it was risky for everyone involved, especially herself. It was entirely possible that she could lose her job, and that was just if things went well. She didn't even want to think about what could happen if things went badly. However Garcia knew that she would never forgive herself if she let her team face the supernatural without doing something. It simply wasn't an option. So with a deep breath she took out the burner phone she kept buried in the bottom of her purse in a secret pocket and pressed speed dial one. It rang several times, which really wasn't surprising considering the early hour but certainly didn't help her stress levels.

Finally a groggy male voice answered, "This better not be a telemarketer or I'm going to hunt you down and feed your head to a Wendigo."

"Dean?" Penelope asked shakily, not bothering to hide the worry in her voice. "I need your guys' help."

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**Voila! C'est fini. That's it for the moment anyway, until I churn out another chapter. Which is HIGHLY MOTIVATED BY REVIEWS! I'm not kidding, I freely admit to being 'The Review Whore of Babylon' and yes that was a poorly disguised supernatural reference. I'm full of those with the odd line from The Avengers and Sherlock when I really get into it. So in any case please remember to review and I will do my best to keep typing away. Carry on my wayward Nerds!**


	3. Three monster-ous unsubs

**I am so sorry this took so long. I didn't even realize how many fav's and follows this got because my email messed up. Totally thought no one cared. Imagine my surprise! You guys are awesome! So here you go with a shiny new chapter. Some suspension of belief might be necessary. I am not a psychologist or forensic expert of any kind. I just watch way too much criminal minds, supernatural, and CSI than is probably healthy for one person. If anyone notices any mistakes in the team's observations or anything else just let me know so I can fix them! As always, remember to READ, REVIEW, AND ENJOY!**

Disclaimer: I own nothing, despite my best attempts to get a crossroads deal. Crowley keeps shooting me down since I don't have a soul to bargain with. Jerk.

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Hell is empty and all the devils are here. -William Shakespeare

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After her disturbing realization, subsequent and non optional freakout, and call to the Winchesters, it didn't take long for Penelope to finish making the presentation for her team. After all she was used to working under pressure. The fact that her team was about to go after a group of supernatural creatures certainly counted as pressure. However she was feeling much better since the two brothers had promised to drive like bats outta hell and would arrive at San Francisco not long after she and her team.

So Garcia pushed up her sleeves and got to work. She considered, momentarily, glossing over some of the supernatural details of each case but ultimately decided against it. Her team would eventually find out from coroner reports and the cops on scene, and everything would just fall downhill from there. Not to mention that Penelope was a poor liar in the face of direct questions, but evasion and mild deception she could do. Within a few minutes of her team arriving the blonde tech analyst was prepped and about as ready as she would ever be. Walking down the hall to the briefing room she could see Rossi and Hotch muttering to each other in the doorway of the presentation room, as they were apt to do when they were wary of a really bad case.

"Alright my very super special agents, keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times because this one is going to be a doozy." Penelope said as she entered the room and grabbed the remote for the projector, armed with a tablet in her other hand.

"I would like to direct your attention to your tablets, or in Reid's case your paper, the squeamish should avert their eyes. Early this morning in the golden city of San Francisco three bodies were found around the same time in three entirely different sections of the city." Garcia said in mostly one breath, already wishing this case was over.

"What connects them?" JJ asked in a puzzled voice.

"All three victims have the same symbol carved into their foreheads. Which is how local police connected them so quickly," Hotch informed. Garcia mentally fretted, debating if she should tell them the meaning of the symbol but was spared deciding by Reid's interruption of her thoughts.

"This symbol is interesting, especially its placement on the forehead," Reid said thoughtfully as he flipped through several of his provided photos. "It's possible that the unsubs are using it as a 'badge of shame'. Badges of shame are shown throughout history and literature, most notably in the book 'The Scarlet Letter', where an adulterer is forced to wear a red 'A' made of cloth. Back in the mid-fifteenth century criminals were commonly branded on their face to show all who met them of their offence. This practice continued through the american civil war until it was finally abolished. By carving whatever this symbol means into the forehead of the victims, means that this perceived offence is personal in nature to the unsubs."

"Please continue Garcia." Hotch said in his usual stoic tone, though the lines around his eyes seemed more serious than normal. Penelope nodded and clicked her button, bringing the first of many terrible images up onto the screen.

"First victim is 24 year old Anna Jones, a diner girl who fell on hard times and turned prostitute from Oklahoma. She had been living as such for four years and was found by her next client of the night who called the cops. Her death seems to look like a suicide and only her prints were found on the knife used to slit her wrists. However she had no other scars from previous attempts or even a history of suicidal thoughts."

Prentis narrowed her eyes in thought, "What is this black substance coming from her ears?"

"Unclear. The coroner should have more information by the time we land," Hotch assured.

"Despite all that if not for the mark on her forehead her case would likely have gone cold and been completely written off and closed," Rossi observed with a frown. "No sign of sexual assault or struggle, and the victim hardly has a hair out of place. Are we even sure there's an unsub in this one? There's no overkill, no obvious signature of any kind. If there is an unsub he's so controlled and organised it's hard to tell he's there at all."

"Considering the nature of the crime and how it's connected to the others by the symbol let's assume there is an unsub until we can prove otherwise." Hotch said firmly, everyone nodding before turning their attention back to Garcia.

Penelope took a deep breath, pushing down the unease in her stomach, that had little to do with the photos she put on screen. "Second to bite the dust, pardon the pun, was 47 year old traveling business man Ben Stiller. He has no fixed address but has made a living for the past two decades selling bibles all over the US. His remains were found by a homeless man in an isolated part of a local park. Where it seems Ben had been beaten, bitten and ripped apart by some kind of massive dog. This is one of many reasons why I prefer cats."

"Coroner's initial reports show both dog and human bites on the body, along with a missing heart." Derrick said with revulsion which Garcia could relate to. Werewolves were nasty pieces of work.

JJ shook her head in astonishment, "How big would this dog have to be to do this much damage?"

Penelope had to bite her tongue to keep from replying, 'Oh, about man-sized would be able to do it.'

"The better question to ask would be how does the unsub control the dog and how does it fit into his MO. Based on the jaw strength that it would take to break through the sternum and the size and depth of the bite wounds, this dog would need to be massive, extremely violent and next to impossible to control. It's likely to be a large mixed breed, perhaps even be half wolf," Reid muttered distractedly.

Garcia could swear her heart stopped when Reid said the W word, her mouth going dry as she barely barely managed to keep from flinching.

"All of which will make it harder to hide without a remote location to keep it contained," Rossi said thoughtfully. "There's a lot of rage here. This unsub certainly seems disorganised to the point of recklessness. Which begs the question did the unsub know Ben or was he merely a victim of opportunity. The level of overkill involved would suggest this is personal."

Prentice shook her head, "And then there's always the question of what happened to the heart."

Quickly, as a poor means of distraction, Penelope pulled herself together and cleared her throat to speak. "And thirdly but certainly not the most horrifyingly, is 32 year old Janet Wilson. She was a happily married San Francisco native with two twin little boys. According to reports she was having a date night with her husband, left to go to the washroom and didn't return. She was found just a few blocks away by a junkie in an alley, her throat torn out and almost completely exsanguinated."

"Another biter I see," Prentis said sardonically with a slightly curled lip at the provided pictures. "Just minus the canine this time."

"The bite wound was also slashed several times with a knife postmortem, could that have been a counter measure to keep us from ID'ing him through dental records?" Morgan asked with a frown.

"Maybe, but perhaps it was overkill. Janet was a low risk victim in a setting with high risk of being caught for the unsub. The fact that he was able to get Janet out of the restaurant without raising alarm from the staff or her husband means he blends in, is charismatic and experienced. He's done this before had plenty of time to practice and refine his technique. Taking Janet from a public place with no one the wiser could be part of the unsubs thrill." JJ said seriously, her eyes lingering on the once happy family photo.

"Considering the trouble the unsub went through then it's likely Janet was targeted by the unsub but not necessarily stalked. There are better places than a crowded restaurant to take her from. If he had stalked her he'd know these times and places. That suggests he's either impulsive or rushed for time." Morgan added, his specialty in fixations and obsessive behaviors shining through.

Hotch nods in agreement. "It's something to consider. Having a certain timeframe to kill in would explain why all three unsubs killed so close together. We might even need to consider a shared delusion that prompts them to kill in these manners."

"There's something odd about the wound," Reid mused. "It's difficult to tell with the knife wounds overtop. At first glance it looks like her throat was ripped out with human teeth, but the teeth marks are too ragged. Normally I'd say that insects could have widened the appearance of the wound but the body was found too soon after death for insects to have set in. It's possible a toothed tool was used to kill her and drain the body."

"What we do know is that with the brutal nature of all these murders, each one of these unsubs is a psychopath. With no remorse or attempt to dispose the bodies away from their murder sites, they're confident that they won't be caught. They are calculating, practiced, and there is little doubt that they have each killed before though perhaps not in a group."

"Which is why I want everyone to exercise extreme caution this case. If this story gets leaked to the press in anyway this pack could turn its attention to us. They would see us as a rival pack that needs eliminating before we threaten their security. Wheels up in ten."

Recognising Hotch's signature dismissal everyone quickly stood and grabbed their bags. Penelope worried her lip between her teeth as she gathered both her go-bag and her larger bag of technological goodies. Heck, she had always known that her team were expert profilers but watching them analyse the supernatural was both strange and impressive. Some of their deductions were so close Garcia was worried they were going to figure it out. Much to her worry. The blonde had never been more grateful for the blindness that the normal world had for the weird. Rationalizing everything into something perfectly explainable to the point where people wouldn't recognise something supernatural if it bit them on the nose. Garcia was suddenly shaken from her thoughts by her larger bag being smoothly taken from her hands.

The blonde turned to see Derek slinging her bag over his shoulder and quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at her. "You're awfully quiet today baby girl. Something on that beautiful mind of yours?"

Penelope could alway count on Derek to recognise when she was worried, which at the moment was both a good and a bad thing.

Garcia put a smile on her painted lips, "Just a bit sleep deprived my darling. I'm sure a five minute cat nap on the plane will help this kitten to be bright eyed, bushy tailed and ready to go on the prowl."

Derek gave her the little smile that she has come to associate with the 'you're adorable but crazy' look he often gives her. Yes Garcia had it trademarked, what of it.

"Well it's a bit of a plane ride to San Francisco, I'm sure Hotch won't hold a grudge if you nod off. I get the feeling we're all going to need to be in top condition for this case," Derek said casually as they walked after the rest of the team toward the elevators.

'That's what I'm worried about,' Penelope thought to herself anxiously.

The drive to the airport and the ride on the jet was altogether uneventful. Garcia was unable to sleep through her simmering worry, but being able to close her eyes for a few minutes trying to catch a few z's helped a little. The rest of the flight was spent listening to her team bounce a few theories off each other and begin digging into the families of the deceased victims. They landed in San Francisco with little fanfare other than a pair of vehicles to take them to the local precinct. The precinct itself was busy, as most of the large city police stations are. An older man with a distinct 'in charge here' walk came ambling up.

"I'm assumin' ya'll are the agents I was told would be arrivin'. I'm the man in charge here, name's Andrew Grant." The man drawled with a thick southern accent, he didn't offer anyone his hand to shake.

Hotch nodded, his diplomatic face firmly in place while he assessed exactly how welcome their presence was. "We are. I'm the unit chief Hotchner, these are SSA agents Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Prentiss, and Doctor Reid. We also brought our technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

Everyone gave Grant a small nod in greeting, which he returned. Garcia gave a little wave and got a second glance and a raised brow but she was used to that reaction. Kept life interesting.

Hotch cleared his throat, "Do you have a space in which we can work?"

Grant nodded and gestured to an out of the way back room. "Used ta be a break room. It's small but it has everythin' ya should need. If there's anythin' else I can provide just let me or my crew know an' we'll do what we can to get it for ya."

"It's much appreciated," Hotch said with a nod. "We'd like to set up and then go over what you have so far on each case."

"Will do, just come an' find me when ya'll are done then." Grant nodded one more time before he walked away getting dragged back into the supervised chaos of the precinct.

"He's co-operative but not exactly volunteering information." JJ stated what they were all thinking.

"He's a busy man with more enough on his plate to be dealing with this case." Hotch demurred with a furrowed brow. "It simply means we need to make sure to ask the right questions and follow their rules. JJ, I'd like you to speak with the families. Make sure to look for similarities and any connections the victims might have. Prentiss and Reid, you get to the morgue and look over the bodies. Get the autopsies and find out everything that wasn't included in the initial reports. Morgan and Rossi, you two go visit the crime scenes and analyse any physical evidence. We'll all meet back here and compare notes once you're done."

The team nodded and dispersed, moving into the room they were given to either drop things off or gather what they needed before they moved out. Garcia entered the vaguely musty room and claimed the tiny desk off to the side by ceremoniously dropping her bag upon it.

Hotch approached, "Garcia, I don't want to rush you but we need to begin looking into the victim's backgrounds, including. How soon can you be set up and running?"

Penelope gave him a little salute, and clicked her ruby red heels together for emphasis. Though she was fairly sure she used the wrong hand for the salute. "Fear not my captain. Once I consult with the local techies and hook up to the network they got here I shall be ready to set sail with the tide. Just give me an hour."

He nodded, the tiniest easing in his forehead wrinkles making Garcia feel accomplished. "I'll let you get on it then. I'm going to speak with some of the other officers and people that discovered the bodies. Keep me updated."

"Yes sir," Garcia answered, taking a moment to watch her boss leave the room before beginning to set up her computers.

The blonde tech had to take several deep breaths to keep her hands steady. The last thing she wanted was to alert her team to her distress any more than they already were. They needed to focus on the case, and Penelope needed to avoid attracting their attention and questions that she couldn't answer. It wasn't even noon and Penelope felt like she needed a vacation. Garcia supposed she would just have to make due with grabbing a cup of coffee on her way to speak to the precinct technicians. So once her equipment was hooked up and settled Penelope left the room to stalk the scent of the nearest coffee pot.

The public coffee at any precinct generally left a lot to be desired, and this precinct was no different. However Garcia was in no position to be picky. She was tired enough at this point she was fairly sure she'd be willing to drink vitriol so long as it was caffeinated. So she quickly acquired herself a steaming paper cup, full to the brim with sweet ambrosia. Penelope took a moment to take a deep sniff and cradle the warm styrofoam in her hands, savoring the moment before facing the chaos. With fresh determination and a cup of coffee she turned on her heel and marched from the break room. Intent on getting to work and doing what she did best.

However she didn't get very far. Garcia found herself rather frozen in her tracks when she spotted a pair of familiar faces. Faces that shouldn't be here, in the precinct, dressed up as cops and certainly not talking to officer Grant. The shorter of the two spotted her first and waved with a grin before elbowing his brother. The fair haired technician could feel a muscle twitching in her cheek as she stared at the two men in mildly growing panic.

Penelope was going to kill Sam and Dean.

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**Woohoo! The Winchesters have appeared! Our favorite Moose and Squirrel will be in the next chapter, so long as Garcia doesn't murder them that is. Too many witnesses and cops around so they should be safe. Though the wisdom of walking into a precinct of cops and FBI agents is pretty questionable. I feel a bit bad for Penelope, those boys are going to be the death of her. Let me know what you think below! I live for reviews! They feed my soul!**


	4. Four the love of-

**Hello my lovelies! Got a chap for you. It's unfortunately short and sweet but unfortunately it is all that my bunnies were willing to give me right now. What a selfish bunch, am I right? I should just cut off their feet and make lucky charms already. Anyway I hope you all like it. Please remember to leave me a lil' note at the bottom. Even if it's just to gush and rant about the latest Criminal Minds episodes. T^T I am so upset. As always, READ, REVIEW, AND ENJOY!**

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**Quote: A world in which there are monsters, and ghosts, and things that wish to steal your heart, is a world in which there are angels, and dreams, and a world in which there is hope.**

**-Neil Gaiman**

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One of the things about being in the criminal behavior unit of the FBI, was that Penelope could be very creative when imagining how she'd murder someone. One of the perks of being a supernatural hunter informant, was that she knew plenty of ways to dispose of the body. Being a world renown hacker meant Garcia could make it look like the person she killed never even existed in the first place. None of this was helping the blonde to come up with reasons why she shouldn't murder the two brothers smiling at her from across a precinct of cops. It certainly wasn't a matter of if she couldn't. Unfortunately for her, and luckily for them, there were far too many witnesses around at the moment to go through with her dastardly murder plot. So the two Winchesters would get to live. For now. Though their bank accounts were certainly in danger.

Dean called out to her, attracting several glances in the process. "Penelope! Over here sugar!"

With a stiff back Garcia marched over while fixing Dean her best 'you-are-in-such-trouble' glare. Her recently acquired coffee was in severe danger of being strangled in the eldest Winchester's place. Unfortunately with officer Grant standing right there, glaring threateningly was all she could do. Dean was going to be getting such a kick to the shins later, and so was Sam if he kept that sheepish grin on his face for much longer.

"Officers, it's good to see you both again." Penelope said cautiously, cautious not to blow whatever cover they were using right in front of the chief of the precinct.

Officer Grant raised an eyebrow and looked at Garcia, "You know these two, agent?"

Sam smiled slightly, "Penelope is an old family friend, and is known to occasionally help us in our other profession."

Penelope's eyes widened as she turned her glare to Sam and mentally willed him to shut up. To her surprise however Grant nodded in understanding. "Then maybe we should take this conversation inta my office," the officer drawled and motioned to the sunny, glass walled room off to the side.

Sam entered first, Dean bowing Penelope in before him like a gentleman, except for the mischievous grin on his face. The blonde rolled her eyes as she passed and Grant closed the door behind all of them so they could all speak freely. The office was small and fairly bland for Garcia's tastes, but it was very neat and tidy with well stocked bookshelves and a pair comfortable chairs in front of a nice desk.

"I haft ta admit I'm surprised there's a hunter in the FBI," Grant said with a critical look at Garcia as he rounded his desk to take a seat.

Suspicions confirmed Penelope relaxed a little and shrugged. "I'm not technically a hunter, more of an informant. I'm kinda like the brains behind the brawn, the Q to their Bond if you will. A lovely femme fatale behind the scenes."

Grant raised an eyebrow and looked at Sam and Dean, "She ever make sense?"

Dean chuckled, "This is about normal for her."

Garcia scowled and playfully swatted the eldest brothers arm while she scolded the pair of them. "Watch it you. You both still need to explain to me just what the heck you think you're doing walking into a building full of cops and FBI agents. I thought you two were going to take at least a few more hours to drive here."

It was Sam that gave a little smile and replied, "We heard you needed help and practically flew down the highway to get here."

Penelope wasn't sure what exactly to make of that cryptic sentence and narrowed her eyes at the youngest Winchester. "Want to explain why you both are dressed in badges and blues then?" She asked suspiciously.

"That would be my doing," Grant sighed. "Both of these boys helped me out of a tight spot with a nest of vamps back when I still worked in a small town in Texas. I got a promotion in my day job, quit hunting and moved here about a year ago. As bad as the crime rate is in big cities, at least monsters tend to avoid them, and the crimes are made by humans for the most part. Just my luck that these monsters decided to come here."

It was true. Monsters had the tendency to prey on the fringes of humanity, which meant small towns and humans wandering in the middle of nowhere that made the best targets. Penelope had done the calculations, and only five percent of supernatural attacks happened in places with human populations over a few thousand. Yet another thing that made this case so strange from a hunter's standpoint.

Dean looks at her with a grin, "So naturally we called in the favour that Grant here owed us to get us a pair of uniforms and the excuse of being new transfers. That way we can work a hunters angle from inside the investigation."

Garcia wrinkled her nose since the whole thing stunk like a bad idea. Her team was made up of some of the brightest minds this side of the continent. The wrong slip up at the wrong moment would bring the worst of the wrong kind of attention. Not to mention that she did not want her team analysing the Winchesters. However she didn't have any better ideas to suggest. Not that the chances were high that the two brothers would listen. Penelope could only hope that with her around she could provide the two brothers with excuses and cover their mistakes. The blonde tech analyst sighed and rubbed her temples.

"I cannot even begin to number the way that this could go wrong. But since there isn't much I can do to stop you, I guess the most I can do is try to manage the damage. We need to lay some ground rules."

Dean scoffs, "Oh please sugar, it's not like we're going to-"

Penelope interrupted by waging a brightly painted fingernail under Dean's nose, "Nope, you don't get to 'sugar' me about this. You two are playing in my sandbox here. So you both are going to do exactly as I say, exactly when I say it. Capish?"

Dean pouts but agrees, "Fine." Sam only grins unrepentantly with those thrice damned puppy eyes and nods.

Garcia sighs before straightening her back, "Rule number one is try to keep the weird questions to a minimum. My team won't blow them off like normal people would. In fact rule one should be to not speak around my team. Especially Reid. He's got a memory that would make even you weep with jealousy Sammy. If you're both not careful he might eventually recognize you both from the wanted lists. "

Dean raises an eyebrow and looks at Sam. "Wow, sounds like you might need to give up your title as 'Super nerd' Sam."

The youngest Winchester shoots his brother a glare before looking back to Penelope. "We'll do our best to avoid interacting with them, but since we'll be working with them it might be unavoidable."

The young blonde nodded with a sigh. "I know, but if you two could try to be as normal as possible around them then maybe we can all get through this in one piece and without getting arrested."

"I don't know Penny," Dean chuckled. "Our normal is the dictionary definition of other people's abnormal."

"You know what I mean," Garcia said with an impressive unimpressed look.

Dean raised his hands in supplication, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I got it, I got it. Be normal and don't talk to the fed's, just another day"

Penelope could only roll her eyes and swat Dean on the arm. "You two are going to be the death of me."

Sam shook his head and bumped elbows with the blonde tech analyst, "That's exactly what we're trying to avoid. I'm sure everything'll work out."

Grant grunted, "We can only hope so. Just don't get too cocky and keep your heads down while workin' the case from behind the scenes. I'm gunna to tell that Agent Hotchner that you two are the ones I've assigned ta help them and take the lead on this investigation and work alongside his team. So don't mess up an' remember that my neck is also on the line if you're found out as wanted fugitives."

"You worry too much," Dean says with a grin and a dismissive shrug.

Grant only raised a single eyebrow with such a deadpan look that Penelope thought could give Hotch a run for his money. "I worry just enough for all of ya reckless huntin' types."

Dean smirked, "Awe, Grant. I didn't know you cared." The graying officer only rolled his eyes and shook his head in response. Sam seemed to take pity on the man and turned to Penelope.

"We're going by the names Shawn McClairy, and Dan Bennet," Sam mentioned. Motioning first to himself and then to his brother.

Garcia nodded, "Shawn and Dan. Got it. What, no cheesy cover names of comic book characters or long dead and extremely outdated music artists this time?"

"Hey! Who's music are you calling outdated?" Dean scowled, to which Penelope only smiled pleasantly in the face of. "Dean, my darling, you know I love you dearly and I also enjoy the odd Def Leppard jam session, but your tastes in music are a bit dusty and worn down to the bone."

"They are not! I only like good music, that's all," Dean exclaimed with a very manly pout.

Sam scoffed. "Sure Dean, keep telling yourself that."

Grant shook his head, "Alright, enough lollygagging. Get out of my office and go kill those monsters."

Sam nodded seriously, contrasting with the jaunty salute Dean gave the older man before Penelope herded them both from the room and lead them to the room she and her team were utilizing. The youngest Winchester immediately focused on the box of photos and evidence that they had been given, along with the map of coloured thumbtacks to help make the geographic profile. Dean on the other hand began circling Garcia's computer set up.

"Man, these Fed's sure gave you some nice equipment to use sugar. No more slumming it and hacking on public library computers for you." Dean said with a grin.

Penelope only rolled her eyes at him as she smacked his hand away before it could touch her precious screens. "Yes it is nice, so don't touch. If I need to explain to the budget committee or my boss why I need a few thousand dollars after letting you near my monitors I will personally feed you to the nearest monster myself."

Dean raised his hands and backed away, his contrite tone misplaced by a mischievous smirk. "Alright, alright. Don't feed me to any werewolves yet."

"At least not until we've killed the ones hanging around here," Sam chuckled as he began setting up each victim's profile on the provided cork board.

"I don't know," Penelope said thoughtfully as she began setting up her computers. "Dean would make pretty good monster bait sometimes. He attracts trouble better than flies and honey after all."

"Sugar," Dean gasped with a hand to his chest over an invisible wound. "It hurts me when you pretend not to care like that. I know you love me."

Penelope looked straight into his eyes with a deadpan look and said blankly, "It's forced."

Sam laughed loudly and Dean pouted quietly at the put down before smiling slightly and going over to the evidence box. Picking up a few papers flipping through them idly the eldest Winchester asked. "So what insights does your team have so far on these cases? They have any idea how far of the deep end they are?"

"Of course not," Garcia said with a shake of her head. "You know that normal people don't go looking for real monsters under the bed. Though some of their insights are scary accurate. If these were just unsubs I wouldn't be worried. However these are real-deal monsters we're working to get this time, and I can't exactly give my team silver bullets and iron machetes without having them question my sanity."

"You mean those aren't standard issue?" Dean teased as he flipped through photos before handing them to Sam to put up.

Saving her from needing to reply Sam interrupted. "So what _does_ your team think so far?"

"They think it's a team of unsubs." Garcia told them as she parked herself behind her monitors and began typing her way into the local system. "On the ghost they don't have too much and don't know what to make of it. They'll have more once they talk to the morgue. The werewolf on the other hand they have plenty of ideas, but still think it's a guy using his dog as a murder instrument. The vamp is interesting for them since it was the boldest killing."

Sam nods, "The lack of viable and usable forensic evidence on all three bodies is going to throw them for a loop."

"Especially since whatever they do find isn't going to make much sense to them," Dean agreed as he walked over to the map and poked the brightly coloured tacks. "What's this thing for?"

Penelope answered without looking up from her monitors. "Geologic map with the locations the bodies were found. Sometimes in certain cases we can find out the general area an unsub lives in, or where they might strike next, from factors like where victims were taken from and where their bodies were dumped."

Dean's eyebrows rose to his hairline, "Damn. That would sure be useful in a hunt Every now and then."

Garcia nodded with a smile. "Most of the time we'd need a computer to calculate all the possibilities to make and accurate map profile like that. Fortunately Reid's secretly a cyborg and can do all the calculations in his head."

"Wow," Sam said with a clearly impressed expression. "How smart is this guy?"

"Well he doesn't like to brag, but he's got an IQ of 187," Penelope said with a definite note of pride in her voice. The young analyst was more than happy to sing her friends praises. "But that's why you guys need to be careful. The whole team is scary good at their jobs and will pick you both apart given any opportunity."

"You worry too much," Dean scoffed flippantly.

Garcia only shook her head and turned her attention back to her computers. It wouldn't take long for Dean to catch on just how easily the team could catch on if they weren't careful once he saw them in action.

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**And there we are. I am not sorry for dressing Dean and Sam as cops. In fact it makes me drool just a tiny bit. The Winchesters have an in, but how long can they keep it up? And how long before the team catches on? What happens when Derrek and Dean come face to face? Find out... Next time!**


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